I get up every morning and say, 'Father, give me strength today

The words of Mr. T thunder with humility and devotion, wrapped in the strength of a warrior and the tenderness of a servant: “I get up every morning and say, 'Father, give me strength today, not strength so I can lift 500 pounds, but give me strength, Lord, so when I speak, my words might motivate, might inspire somebody, Lord, when they see me, let them see you. When they hear me, Lord, let them hear you. In your holy name I pray.'” This is not the cry of a man boasting in his muscles, but the prayer of one who knows that the greatest strength is not in the body but in the spirit, not in what one can carry in the arms but in what one can kindle in the hearts of others.

The meaning of this quote is profound: it is the recognition that true power lies not in feats of physical might, but in the ability to inspire and uplift. Mr. T, a figure once celebrated for his muscles, his toughness, and his larger-than-life persona, reveals here the deeper truth that even the strongest body is nothing if it does not serve the higher purpose of encouraging and guiding others. He seeks a strength that does not exalt himself but channels something greater — the strength to be a vessel of God’s presence, to become a mirror in which others may glimpse hope and faith.

The origin of these words rests in Mr. T’s own journey. Known worldwide as the fierce, gold-clad warrior of the screen, he carried the image of indestructibility. Yet behind the persona was a man of deep faith, who survived hardships, battled cancer, and endured public scrutiny. Through these trials, he discovered that his calling was not merely to entertain, but to witness, to use his fame and his voice to point toward God and to lift those in despair. His morning prayer reveals the foundation of his daily life: the surrender of his own ego in exchange for the chance to be an instrument of divine love.

History, too, reveals men and women who sought such strength. Saint Francis of Assisi, once a soldier, laid down arms and prayed only to be an instrument of peace, saying, “Lord, make me a channel of your peace.” Martin Luther King Jr., though surrounded by hatred and violence, prayed not for the power to crush his enemies, but for the courage to inspire justice and love through his words. Like Mr. T, these figures understood that the strength that changes the world is not found in force, but in faith, humility, and the courage to speak truth.

There is also in Mr. T’s prayer a rejection of vanity. He does not pray that when others see him, they see his fame, his gold chains, or his reputation for toughness. He prays that they see God through him. This is a profound act of selflessness, a willingness to disappear so that something greater might shine. Such humility is rare in a world that glorifies image and self-promotion, but it is this very humility that makes his words timeless.

The lesson we draw is clear: do not measure strength only by what your body can achieve, or even by what your mind can conquer. Instead, seek the strength that flows outward, the strength to comfort, to inspire, to encourage, to love. Each morning, as Mr. T does, we may ask not for power that glorifies us, but for power that blesses others. In this way, our lives become not monuments to self, but rivers of influence that nourish all who pass by.

So let us take his words into our daily practice. Each dawn, let us pray or meditate not only for our needs, but for the chance to be a light to another. Let our words carry healing, our actions reflect compassion, and our presence point to something greater than ourselves. For in the end, muscles will weaken, wealth will fade, fame will be forgotten — but the strength that comes from God, flowing through us to others, will endure beyond time. That is the strength worth seeking, the strength that truly makes a life heroic.